Paradise Lost
by vox populi 12
Summary: Peace cannot last forever. A tale of how it all fell apart.
1. Chapter 1

Paradise Lost

1. Broken Beyond Dreaming

Albus lay facedown in the blood-soaked, scorched earth. His hair was singed and burnt, his face torn and scarred, and his body bruised and aching. His limbs felt heavy as lead, and his mind was shattered and broken. He felt as if he may never move again. Memories, hard and sharp, tumbled aimlessly through his head.

-Dad-

-Aunt Hermione, a flaming ruin behind her, standing with her wand pointed at him, rage and loss etched in every line of her face-

-Hogwarts crumbling-

-Sitting beneath the sorting hat-

-James on his knees, pleading with him on the quidditch pitch-

-The thestrals-

-Trelawney-

-Malfoy Manor-

- The Resurrection Stone-

-Feeling the wind on his face up on the astronomy tower-

-A thousand cameras flashing, as the Wizarding World Media hangs on his every word-

-_Scorpius-_

-Oh god, Scorpius-

-_You are not like your father, Mister Potter; your mind is more devious, more….Slytherin_

Albus lay beneath the smoke that now obscured the stars, and wished, once more, for a different life, a different existence.

-_Why couldn't I have been born to somebody else, a different time, a different world?-_

-_Why couldn't I have died that night on the astronomy tower, that last happy night of my life, the one perfect night of my life? Why couldn't I have died and never seen, never felt the pain of loss again?-_

_-Why am I always the one to make the hard choices?-_

_-And why do I always make the wrong ones?-_

Albus lay as if dead, and let his whole life wash over him.

-_Regret-_

_-Pain-_

_-Power-_

_Love-_

_-Hate-_

_-Greed-_

_-Jealousy-_

_-Obsession-_

_-Joy-_

_-Loyalty-_

_-Betrayal-_

_-War-_

_-Life-_

_-Death-_

And he saw clearly now the path of his life, and believed that no matter which way he had walked, this would have been inevitable.

_-Nothings inevitable Albus Potter-_

But that wasn't true, some things were inevitable, and as Albus looked back at the path of his life, at everything that had led to this moment, all his choices that made him who he was, he realized that there was one inevitable thing he had to do.

-_Time is a fickle thing Albus Potter, and you may live to regret this choice-_

_-What choice don't I regret? If I fail, then this is just another sad anecdote in the life of Albus Potter-_

_-The last one-_

_-There's no one left to see it anyway-_

Albus Potter stood, picked up his wand, his thirteen and a half inch yew, phoenix feather wand, and took a long look at the bodies of the fallen around him.

-_Scorpius-_

He pushed the memories away and began the long walk to his doom.

_-Maybe not-_

Pain blinding him, his very life darkening around his eyes, Albus Potter chose.

One last time.


	2. The Beginning

1. The Beginning

_September 1__st__ 2017_

Albus strode through the corridor of the slowly moving train, his cousin Rose at his side, hurriedly seeking an empty compartment. Deftly trying to avoid the stares and whispers of the other students on the train as he passed, Albus finally spotted a compartment with only two occupants, a slight, brown haired, dark skinned boy and a pale boy with white blond hair.

"Is it okay if we sit here," asked Albus tentatively, trying not to betray his nervousness.

The blond boy immediately waved his hand towards the seats in a welcoming gesture, but the boy with brown hair let his eyes sweep over the newcomers in a cold, appraising look.

"I'm famous too," he suddenly stated out of nowhere.

Albus and Rose both glanced at each other in apparent surprise.

"I'm Valen, Valen Castillian." The boy said as he reached out his hand. Albus shook it hesitantly and then turned to Rose. Rose looked at Valen for the briefest of seconds, obviously trying to remember if that name had ever come up in any of her readings. Not recognizing it, she gave a little sigh and then plopped herself down on the seat simultaneously shaking Valen's hand.

"Why are you famous," Rose asked with as much forced interest as she could.

"Well, the Castillians are the most famous dragon hunters ever, of course. I'm going to be a dragon hunter too when I grow up. That's what I'm going to be doing at Hogwarts, taking all the dragon hunting classes I can and then slaying those deadly beasts for a living. I'll make tons of gold." Valen said all of this very fast and excitedly. "Who did you say the Dragon Killing teacher was at Hogwarts, Scorp?"

The blond boy turned his attention from the window and rolled his eyes at Valen. "I told you, Hagrid is not a dragon killing teacher, he loves dragons, he's even kept a baby one in his house be-" The blond boy cut off as Valen, who had apparently already lost interest, was now reeling off names of his most famous ancestors, earning an incredulous look from Rose.

The blond boy now looked at Albus and held out his hand. "I'm Scorpius Malfoy, he said quietly, almost, apologetically.

Albus took Scorpius's hand. As soon as he did this, a stunned look fell across Scorpius's features.

"I'm sorry," Albus said, quickly letting go of the other boys' hand. "I though you wanted me to shake your-."

"I did, I did," Scorpius said. "But I just never thought you would, I mean," he began to whisper "With your name….and mine."

Albus immediately thought of his own name, of the fame and notoriety it was about to bring him in this world. He thought of his family, and he thought of wars, and photographers, and Gryffindor, and Quidditch. And finally he thought of his brother, James.

_James can have everything that goes with the Potter name, _he thought. _I don't want it._

"Names don't mean much to me," Albus replied, and thus was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

As Valen and Rose got into a heated argument about the rights of magical creatures, and Scorpius and Albus quietly discussed houses, another boy appeared outside of their compartment, causing the four new friends to suspend their discussions and glance up.

"Hey," the black haired newcomer said uncertainly, "Do you have any room for me in here? I was only just sitting with a bunch of people down the train, and then I said something and they kicked me out. I'm Tom by the way," he added as an afterthought.

Valen looked at Tom with the same judgmental look he had given Albus and Rose. "Do you know who the Castillians are," he finally asked. Rose groaned.

Tom, however, flashed a smile at him and said, "Only the most famous dragon hunters in the whole world. Are you a dragon hunter as well?" he asked, sounding genuinely interested.

Valen's face went slack for a moment. A second later, however, he burst into an enormous, self-satisfied grin and bade Tom sit down, shoving Scorpius over to make room for the other boy on the seat, and immediately continued chattering about the Castillians and the best place to stab a dragon, the back , neck, or heart.

As darkness fell and Valen become increasingly tired and less forthcoming in his explanations of dragons, the matter of talk in the compartment turned to other subjects.

"What did you say to get kicked out of your other compartment?" Rose asked Tom.

"I'm not really sure," Tom replied. "We were discussing our origins, and I told them my father wasn't a wizard, and as soon as the words were out of my mouth they were shoving me out." Tom shrugged.

Rose glanced at Albus as Scorpius turned back to the window. She then placed her hand over Tom's, surprising Albus, and said softly, "Some wizards and witches have a prejudice against others whose parents are not of the magical world." Rose gazed up for a second, thinking how to phrase this next part, and then said, "Al and I are only half-bloods too, so is Al's dad and he's the head Auror, and my mum didn't have any magical parents and she's one of the most powerful witches there is. Things at Hogwarts are a lot different now too, you won't find a whole lot of that prejudice anymore," she ended.

Tom nodded, and as Albus looked at the other boy, he thought that Tom had known all of that before.

Albus stared at the incoming beacon of light that was the restored Hogwarts School, and thought over the previous few hours, and what houses all of his new friends would be in.

_Valen is probably a Gryffindor. He's brave, and blunt. He could be a Ravenclaw too, the speed at which he talks._

_ Rose could definitely be a Ravenclaw, she is certainly as smart as her mother. She could be a Gryffindor too, I suppose._

_ Scorpius is quiet and concentrated. Maybe a Slytherin, maybe even a Hufflepuff._

_ Tom is a mystery. He certainly seems cunning, playing off Valen like that; he might do well as a Slytherin. But I think he looks warmer than that somehow. Maybe he could be a Gryffindor. I feel like he's hiding something though, something dark. And he looks familiar too me._

_ And me? Where will I go? James always said I had the temperament of a Slytherin, and he might be right, but I don't think so. I don't really care where I go anymore anyway, I'll just let the sorting hat decide. _


	3. Chapter 3

3. Christmas Lights and Christmas Shadows

_Christmas Eve, 2017_

Albus tore into the brightly wrapped Christmas present from his favorite uncle. George Weasley was unique among the Potter-Weasley family for his eternally jovial personality, his dislike for random tangents about The War, and his acceptance of Albus as an individual, not just a younger version of his father. Albus always got two presents from his Uncle George, the customary joke or prank from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and a gift unique to Albus.

The wrapping fell apart from around the box. Inside laid two strange spheres attached to flesh colored strings. Albus picked one of the balls up to find it was covered with a sticky substance and automatically clung to his hand. Albus, a littlegrossed outturned his hand over to reveal he was holding a life-like human eyeball, complete with green iris's that matched Albus's own. The string fell between his fingers.

"What is it?" Albus asked hestitaingly.

George winked at him. "Why it's the newest and improved version of Extendable Information Artifacts. This here's an Extendable Eye. Just throw one of the eyeballs at a wall or door, then stick the other ball on your forehead in-between your eyes, and the scene of whatever's happening beyond that surface will be projected straight into your brain, all the sights, sounds, smells, and even sensations of, whatever it is, will seem like it's including you." George said this with obvious enthusiasm. "We're already sold out, I saved this pair special for you."

"Thanks," Albus said, unsticking the eye from his hands and replacing it in the box. Albus next picked up the other object. This one was much harder and heavier. Tearing off the white paper that concealed the gift's nature, Albus discovered a large, black leather bound book, entitled _Most Potente Potions_.

"Where, where did you get this," gasped Albus. "This book's one of the rarest in the world, the only copy I know of is in the Hogwarts Library, but it's in the restricted section, how-." Albus broke off in midsentence, gazing in wonderment at the tome in his hands.

George gave his nephew another enormous wink. "Let's just say I still have some old contacts at Hogwarts who were able to secure the book for you. Just don't tell anyone," George finished. "Strictly speaking, restricted books are not supposed to be removed permanently, it's actually illegal."

Albus filed this last statement away to chew over later. "Thank you so much Uncle George," Albus said.

"Don't mention it," George replied, getting up from his chair by the fire and heading into the kitchen. He stopped and turned back to Albus. "Seriously, don't mention it," he said again, the corners of his mouth turning up in a half-smile. Albus grinned and stole his seat.

Looking out over the central room of Grimmauld Place, Albus observed a mass of wrapping paper, thrown aside presents, and several dozen people, all members of his family except for one.

Albus searched the room and found his friend Tom, encumbered by his own own pile of presents, all of them from either Albus's parents or Rose's, and caught his eye. Tom smiled at him, and it was the insanely powerful smile of a person who was enjoying Christmas for the first time in his life. Albus smiled too, he couldn't help it, Tom was infectious, and leaned back on his chair.

Ever since Tom had finally deigned to tell the other four friends that he had grown up in a muggle orphanage his whole life, Albus had insisted he come stay with his family for Christmas, and Tom had finally had to relent. Albus's father had been especially enthusiastic about the idea. As Albus saw his friend happily conversing with Louis Weasley, he knew that Tom would never regret the choice.

Albus let his attention wander. _I still can't believe we all made it into Gryffindor_._ I don't think Gryffindor's ever seen a more unlikely fivesome who were friends. A Potter, a Weasley, a Malfoy, a future dragon slayer, and a boy with no knowledge of his past._

As the present opening ended and the party began to break up, Albus sucked in a contented sigh and closed his eyes.

* * *

Tom glanced at his friend snoozing soundly in the large chair nearest the fire, laughed to himself, and gathered up hi presents in his arms to take to the room he was using for the holidays.

_I am so lucky, _He thought. _I can't believe I was scared of coming here, to feel what a real family feels like. It feels great._ Tom stopped for a moment in his trek up the stairs, and thought, _I'm gonna miss this_. He sighed and was on the third step when Rose came careening down, a piece of parchment clutched tightly in her fist. She seemed to not even notice Tom and sprinted on into the hall. Tom looked after her a moment, shrugged, then continued on into his room, dumped the presents on his four-poster bed, and resolved to study them more closely later. For now he would return to the family. Warmth grew in his chest, and he knew he had never been happier.

Coming back into the middle room, Tom found it empty except for a sleeping Albus. Not wanting to disturb him, Tom strode into the kitchen.

As soon as he entered, he knew something was wrong. The scene in the kitchen was eerily similar to such scenes in the orphanage. Here the adults were all pressed close together, conversing in hushed whispers that betrayed none of their words to Tom's ears.

"Tom," said Harry, giving him a weak and obviously forced smile while walking over to where Tom stood by the door. He bent down and tousled Tom's hair. Tom found he quite liked the gesture, even if it was quite patronizing.

"Tom," Harry said quietly, "Can you excuse us for a moment, we're having a serious conversation."

Tom began to back out the door, but Harry put a hand on his shoulder.

"Why don't you meet me after we're done," he said, "I have one more present I'd like you to have."

Tom's eyes opened wide. "Oh Mr. Potter sir, please, I don't need any more, I mean-."

Harry waved this off. "I want to," he said

Tom nodded. "Okay thank you sir, I'll just leave you then," Tom said. Harry gave him one last fleeting smile before the door snapped closed.

Tom turned and thought, _Whatever has happened to hurt them, I'll stop it. I'll defend them, I'm a Gryffindor._

The warmth had returned. Tom hoped it would never leave.

* * *

Albus was roused from his sleep by the squeal of a closing kitchen door.. He was about to return to his peaceful slumber, when he heard a familiar voice intone, _Colloportus._

Albus, his interest aroused, sat up and looked around. What had happened to make his dad put a locking spell on the kitchen? Albus looked down at his unwrapped presents at his feet. There sat the Extendable Eyes.

Hesitatingly, Albus picked one up. It sat there in the palm of his hand, it's dark pupil swiveling around ferociously, and suddenly Albus was overcome with a desire to know what was going on behind that kitchen door.

"I'll give you something to look at," he told the eye, and then hurled the eye with as much thrust as he could. It stuck to the very center of the door and Albus was overcome with sights, sounds, smells, and even, sensations.

* * *

Harry Potter turned back from the door he had just charmed shut, and swept a fierce glance around the kitchen.

"This cannot continue," he said darkly.

"That eez no reason to eenvite this man into your house," said Fleur Weasley, nee Delacour. "He eez very dangerous." She put her hands on her hips and gave Harry a very disapproving look.

"I have to agree with Fleur on this one," Ginny Potter added, though by her expression it was plain how much that statement cost her. "He is one of the most powerful wizards in the world, if you two get into a fight, you'll probably wake the children."

"We can take him." This was Cade Ironheart, Harry's second in command among the Aurors. His family had been a victim of Voldemort in The War. Cade had trained his entire childhood to kill dark wizards. Then, three years ago, when he was just seventeen, Cade had single-handedly killed fourteen ex-Death Eaters in extreme fashion, then nearly killed kimself in horror at what he had done. A hero to much of the wizarding world, a villain to many more, Harry, in his infinite ability ti see the good in people, had controversially taken Cade under his wing. He had risen quickly through the ranks until he was Deputy Lieutenant Auror. Although much tamer than three years previously, Cade had a much rougher approach to justice than his boss. He was, however, extremely loyal to Harry and would never disobey an order.

"That is, if Mr. Potter wants to," Cade added with a smirk. Fleur rolled her eyes.

"There will be fighting," Harry replied. "He would never lift a finger against me."

This statement was met with a round of exasperated looks.

"Harry, are you sure, I mean?" Hermione was drowned out by her husband.

"Ya mate," Ron said over her, but one voice cut through the others like a horn through fog.

"Oh, of course not, after all, who would dare to challenge our most esteemed Head Auror." This voice was dripping with sarcasm. It belonged to Agrivarius Ironheart, Cade's father. A cold, calculating man, a scar ran down his face from his right ear to his chin, a relic of the night his family, barring his youngest son, was killed. It was obvious that he placed some of the blame for this on Harry, for not stopping Voldemort before they were murdered, and his presence in this group was still being questioned by most there.

"Why don't we just trust Harry, on this one." A motherly voice spoke up. "His instincts are always good." Molly Weasley softly touched Harry's shoulder as she said this. "Dumbledore would be very proud of you," she said so quietly only he could hear.

Harry felt tears well up in his eyes, and turned away to look at the other faces in the room.

Standing regally in the center of the room was the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. A calming force in many contentious dealings, Harry hoped Kingsley could do the same here.

George Weasley was standing a little to the left of Kingsley, Leaning on the table and studying a curious object in his hand. Something that looked almost like an eyeball. Harry shook his head, there was more to George Weasley than met the eye.

Arthur Weasley stood next to Molly, a complacent look on his face.

Cormac McLaggen was sitting on the counter. He exuded an air of confidence that filled the room. He glanced cockily over at Hermione, who started to blush. Ron saw this and immediately caught her up in a lengthy, passionate kiss. Cormac snorted and looked away.

Angelina stood by the door, as if guarding against intruders the same way she used to guard Gryffindor's goalpost against quaffles.

Percy Weasley was posing against the far wall, and didn't seem to be paying attention, a rarity for him. Harry resolved to ask about him later.

The fireplace flared green. Harry turned his attention to it and met the man who this gathering had been called for.

"Good evening, Amadeus," Harry said as the leader of The Consolidation emerged from the hearth. He looked at Harry and sneered.

"I didn't realize we would be speaking in front of the entire Order of the Has-Beens," he said, then turned to Ginny, "Where's the rest of the litter?"

Amadeus Saturn was extremely young, extremely handsome, and extremely powerful. He stood a few inches taller than Harry, had raven black hair with red tips, and he was wearing a muggle business suit.

"Going for the Gellert Grindelwald look aren't you," Harry said mildly.

Amadeus hissed. "Like Gellert would ever have worn a suit like this." He then raised his voice and stared at Harry menacingly. "You of all people should know I have devoted my life to erasing the stain of that monster upon my Durmstrang's walls," he finished.

"Precisely why I said it, my friend." Harry put out his hand. "Welcome to my home."

Amadeus looked at Harry's hand the way one may inspect a particularly moth eaten cloth, then, amazingly, took it and conjured himself a brandy.

"And can I ask why I have been summoned here so late on a Christmas Eve."

Harry decided to get right to it. "I need The Crucible," he stated flatly.

Amadeus blinked at him. "No."

Ron started, "What good is it doing you?" he asked, but Harry held up a hand to silence him, then gave an apologetic look.

"I thought maybe Christmas would get you in the spirit of giving, Amadeus."

Amadeus snorted, then, seeing his brandy was empty, conjured another one.

"I know why you want it," Amadeus said. "There can only be one reason anyway. The question is, what will you give me in return?"

Harry replied quickly. "You will have our deepest gratitude and-."

Amadeus cut him off. "Let The Consolidation campaign and recruit in Britain." Amadeus's words were like a clap of thunder, and with them, Harry knew he could not be turned.

"No." This was Kingsley, and with that one word, he dashed all of Harry's hopes.

Amadeus turned to the rest of the room. "This is why there is no advancement in the wizarding world. You, the Order of the Has-Beens, will not let there be. You sit here, in your former headquarters, and proclaim how you beat Voldemort for the muggle and magical worlds alike, and yet you care about neither . Our world is dying, as well as theirs, and you sit here and pretend there is no problem, or that the Crucible is the solution, the Crucible!, which is my last resort. Magic is dying, and you are no better than Voldemort and the Death Eaters." He spat on the floor in utter contempt and everyone gasped.

"What do you want," yelled Cade.

"I want to save the world the only way it can be! I want to throw the doors of the muggle and magical worlds open! I am The Advocate!"

This was said with such power that everyone in the room cringed as he ended.

"Amadeus gave them a withering glance, and then turned back to Harry. "You know as well as I it is the only way." Amadeus was barely whispering now. "Besides, you know the rules of chess, you cannot take my queen without sacrificing a few knights." He gathered himself and threw the floo powder in the hearth. Just before leaving, he gave one last look at the room. "Oh, and Cormac," he said, and his voice dripped with the venom of genuine hatred, "If you see Viktor, which I know you will( Cormac's ears turned red) tell him that if he dares set foot in Durmstrang again, I will kill him." Then he turned and was gone.

A moment later Kingsley did the same, muttering, "Detestable man," as he went.

Harry's eyes swept around the room. "We must figure out a different way to get The Crucible," he said, and then pushed his way out of the door.

* * *

Albus gave the eyeball a hurried yank. It hit him right in the ear, but if Harry Potter noticed his son now had four eyes, he said nothing. Albus left the chair to write a letter to Scorpius.

* * *

Tom couldn't help but be curious as to why Harry had just given this to him. It was a large bowl with silver liquid swirling in the top of it. He had been given it mere moments ago with no instructions other than a vague, "It will help you in many endeavors, just like it has helped me."

* * *

Rose opened the door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, ready to give Teddy Lupin his handmade Christmas card, only to see Teddy and Victoire locked in a passionate kiss. She slammed the door and ran down the hall, dropping her card as she went.

* * *

For the second time that night, Tom was almost bowled over by Rose Weasley. She dropped a piece of parchment as she ran by, and Tom caught it in the air. It seemed to to be a Christmas card for Teddy Lupin. Feeling a strange twinge of annoyance from an unknown source, he dropped the card back on the floor of the hall.

_

* * *

_

To Scorpius

_My fathers gone crazy! He's consorting with The Advocate! Do you know what the Crucible is? It sounds dark._

_Christmas Wishes_

_Albus_

Scorpius had never heard of this Crucible, but he was fairly certain he had a darker artifact on his finger right now. His grandmother had made an impromptu visit to his room after Christmas Dinner was over and given it to him.

"I found this in a forest after a great battle had taken place a very long tine ago," she had said. "Take care of it."

As Scorpius gazed at the ornate P on the grey stone in the center of the ring, he knew he would never let anything happen to it.

Sighing, he took out a piece of parchment and wrote back to his best friend.

**Is anyone reading this? If you do, please review. Anonymous is fine.**


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